


You're Twisting My Melon, Man

by darkrosaleen



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Frottage, Hand Jobs, High Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Lazy Sex, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Incest, unexpected tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrosaleen/pseuds/darkrosaleen
Summary: Liam reacts strongly to some weed bought on the road. Good thing his big brother is there to take care of him.
Relationships: Liam Gallagher/Noel Gallagher
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	You're Twisting My Melon, Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).

Of all the fucking substances Liam's had in his body this tour, of course it's the fucking _weed_ that buggers him sideways.

Noel is going to find his brother's Glasgow contact and relieve him of his bollocks, because there's no way Liam hasn't smoked enough pot to inoculate himself against this kind of thing. It must've been dirty stuff, padded out with God-only-knows-what. Noel hasn't seen his brother freak out like this since he was thirteen.

Liam spent the past ninety minutes curled in a miserable ball on the hotel bed, shaking like a leaf and moaning that he was about to vomit (no such event has occurred, which leads Noel to think Liam is just being a dramatic twat). Every time Noel gets up to fetch some water or a wet flannel, Liam grabs his wrist like a vice, whimpering like a baby that doesn't want to be put down.

Well, taking care of a baby isn't miles off. "Shush," Noel says, pulling his wrist free and patting Liam's skinny back. "Just getting some ginger ale from the mini fridge, doesn't that sound nice?"

Liam nods carefully, as if his head is in danger of falling off his neck. Noel gets up and fetches the bottle, sitting back down against the headboard to remove the top. Liam rolls over and wraps his lanky legs around Noel's extended ones, clinging to his chest like a shy toddler. A warm curl of affection cuts through Noel's annoyance.

"Sit up so you don't spill," he says, holding the bottle out for his brother. Liam lifts his head enough to take the bottle and take a giant swig, throat moving visibly as he chugs it down. He releases it with a hiccup, which prompts a soft giggle that makes Noel's whole body unclench slightly. Noel moves the ginger ale safely to the nightstand as Liam starfishes back onto the mattress.

"You're my favorite brother," Liam says, curling back into limpet position. "Nothing can hurt me when you're here."

Something uncomfortably soft is happening in Noel's stomach. "How's your tummy feeling? Did the fizzy drink help?"

Liam nods against Noel's ribs. "Doesn't really hurt anymore. Now I just feel hot. Do you feel hot? You should take that jumper off, it's scratchy."

It isn't, but Noel knows Liam is sensitive right now, overwhelmed by every little sensation. He awkwardly wriggles out of the jumper and throws it across the room. It's a little chilly for short sleeves, but Liam is fever-hot and pressed against Noel's whole side, so it isn't too bad.

Liam hasn't stopped making little whining noises, although they sound happier now. He's moving constantly, wriggling and arching his back and rubbing his hands against the worn fabric of Noel's shirt. "You're so fucking warm," Liam mumbles, pressing his face into Noel's stomach. 

Liam is hard. It's impossible not to notice in their current position. Noel doesn't blame him; pot does funny things, he knows it's just a meaningless physical reaction that Liam has no control over.

It becomes less meaningless when Liam rocks his hips, rubbing his knob against Noel's thigh. It's soft and hard at the same time, sauna warm, completely unlike a girl rubbing against him. 

Noel clears his throat nervously. "Liam, you wanna stop that? You're grinding on me like some horny slag."

Liam laughs again. "It's cause I am a horny slag." His next thrust is slower and more deliberate, the shape of his cock burning through thick denim. Noel feels dangerously overheated for a sober person.

Liam rolls on his back again, grabbing and pulling on Noel's shirt until he climbs on top. Once Noel's full weight settles on his brother, a huge smile brightens Liam's face, looking up at Noel like he hung the fucking moon. Liam can't quite keep his eyes open, and it makes his lashes look like a girl's, long and soft.

"Yeah," Liam says, pushing his hips up into the dangerous territory of Noel's own growing erection. "Just like this. I'm so fucking hot, Noel, I feel like I'm burning up."

Noel takes a few seconds to feel mortified and disgusted, mostly by the heat thumping through his own veins. Then he looks down at his brother's heavy-lidded eyes and soft mouth and pale skin, and realizes that even in his dazed state, the kid clearly wants it. 

Noel bends his head down to his brother's exposed neck, kissing the pink flush that goes all the way down his collar. His skin is soft and feverishly hot, his pulse fluttering at light speed from the pot, and Noel tastes salt when he opens his mouth to suck gently. Liam whines loudly, wriggling under Noel's weight. 

Liam's noisiness and inability to stay still aren't diminished by suction on his neck and pressure on his cock. He's louder than most birds Noel's been with, especially considering that his noises appear genuine. Every rub of Noel's hips draws out a loud whine, and Liam's hands won't stop wandering over Noel, tracing his sides and sliding into his hair.

"Fucking shameless," Noel says with a grin, reaching down to work his zip free. "You always moan like that? Bet your birds don't like the competition."

Liam half-heartedly smacks Noel on the head. "It's the weed. Can't control meself, it just feels so good."

Noel can improve on that. It takes a moment to wriggle out of his denims and pull Liam's down to his knees, and Liam grows impatient with the waiting, hands still wandering over Noel's body.

With both of their pricks free, it's easy to fit their bodies together and get one hand around both their cocks. Noel is clumsy at first, struggling to grip in a way that feels good to both of them, but eventually he gives up and devotes his attention to stroking Liam, enjoying the way his noises get even louder.

Liam's prick is about the same size as Noel's, and he's apparently built the same, based on the way he responds to Noel's own stroking technique. It's odd to jerk a cock he's not attached to, and Noel notices the soft texture of it even more, the slippery slide of Liam's foreskin and the heat of the blood pumping through the shaft.

Noel feels like he's being hotboxed: Liam's hot skin and breath and noises are so close it's making Noel dizzy. Or maybe it's all the blood rushing furiously to his knob. Either way, Noel's panting and feverish himself, his brain whiting out except for the punishing rhythm of his hand on his brother's cock. 

Noel stops for a moment, ignoring Liam's whine of protest. A shift in angle gives his elbow room to move properly, and he takes both cocks in hand again. The feeling of a hard cock pressing against Noel's is so new and strange and good that his hips jerk forward of their own accord, rubbing his cock against his brother's. It must feel good for Liam too, based on the way he throws his head back to expose his throat. Noel can't resist ducking down for a possessive little nip.

It's mind-blowingly hot to watch Liam come, to feel the wet heat of his spunk and see the ecstasy contort his face, his whole body tensing and thrashing. Liam lets out a noise so high pitched that it's almost a scream. 

The small part of Noel that's still attached to reason and morality worries about the other guests hearing. But then Liam goes boneless and looks up at Noel with a lazy, sinful grin, his spent cock slipping out of Noel's grip. "Come on then, splatter me up. Unless you're too soft?"

Bugger the couple next door, honestly.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from fellow Mancunian shitheads the Happy Mondays.


End file.
